


You Didn't Need to Ask

by Lord_KH



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: F/M, Light Angst, Secret Crush, Texting, shumako
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:28:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25086910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lord_KH/pseuds/Lord_KH
Summary: After a low moment while infiltrating Sojiro's house, Makoto tries to address her behavior to Ren without spilling all of her guts
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Niijima Makoto, Kurusu Akira/Niijima Makoto, Niijima Makoto/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 10
Kudos: 102





	You Didn't Need to Ask

_Monday, 7/25/20XX, Niijima Household, Evening…_

Makoto Niijima was, if nothing else, a fairly confident person. Strong role models like her deceased father and older sister had instilled in her a strength to tackle any issue not only with tenacity, but the utmost confidence as well. From her choice of schools to the clothes she wore, Makoto sought to project that same confidence in everything she did. With that mindset she crushed most of the obstacles she had come across in her young life:

High school exams? Toast.

Student Council President? A breeze.

College entrance exams? See #1.

Even in her brief sojourn as a Phantom Thief, Makoto had adapted remarkably well to incredibly strange circumstances. She was unanimously elected to be the team’s brains and her chosen code name, Queen, suggested a reverence from her peers that could only have come from her confident nature. The brashness that came as a result of that spirited determination was sometimes problematic, especially if it fueled her to carelessly demand dangerous degenerates take her to their mafia boss, but overall Makoto was still expertly clearing every hurdle. At the same time, she was finally breaking out of her shell, no longer feeling she had to succeed at everything for the approval of both her family and other adults, but because she _damn well pleased._

However, confronting the Phantom Thieves’ newest target, Medjed, found Makoto in unfamiliar territory: the darkened residence of ‘Boss’ Sojiro Sakura. Boss had been the surly but kind owner of a café that Makoto and her new friends all frequented; the café also doubled as the current home for the Thieves’ troubled leader, Ren Amamiya, who Boss had taken in while he was serving probation. Supposedly a relative of his was behind this newest threat, and sneaking into his home was the only way to confirm this suspicion. That alone was enough to put Makoto on edge, but nothing could have prepared her for what was coming, particularly a temporary blackout from a temperamental thunderstorm. All the confidence she had built up by succeeding as a Phantom Thief did little to curb her worst habits when confronted with a less-than-ideal situation:

Not being a total baby when sneaking around a dark house with your friends? Well…

Losing your cool and being weird to the only guy who doesn’t think you’re a hapless goody-two-shoes? Uh…

Sending a text to said close male friend begging them to forgive you for asking to hold their hand and then clutching their leg in terror? Erm…

Now, 24 hours later, Makoto sat in her room staring blankly at her phone screen for the past twenty minutes, her thumb acting as a pendulum oscillating between the delete and send buttons on her phone keyboard but never quite seeming to settle on either. The prideful and strong aura that usually radiated out of her had fizzled out, leaving her a smoldering mess incapable of stringing sentences together, even digitally. And why was she so _itchy!?_ She once again scratched gently at her right thigh over her black capris, an all-too-brief distraction from the nuclear bomb that lay trembling in the chamber of her drafts. At some point she had stood up from her computer chair, socked toes digging into the alabaster carpet as the city shone brightly through her open bedroom window. The cool summer breeze filtering in did little to tame her increasingly red face, nor did her usual calming tactic of hugging the faded Buchimaru-kun panda plush toy that sat atop her bed like she was seven.

At _least_ she’d gotten it down to a couple sentences? Her original text was truly a recipe for mutually assured destruction:

_“Good evening, Ren-kun. Yesterday I may have overreacted when I asked you if I could hold your hand while we were in the Chief’s house looking for Futaba-chan. I had no romantic intention when I asked that, and I am deeply sorry if that was communicated at all. Further, I also would like to apologize for my overreaction when Futaba-chan appeared. I likely would have grabbed anything solid in sight, which so happened to be your leg. I enjoy our friendship and would not want it to be in jeopardy because of some poorly thought out actions done in a moment of weakness. Please take care and have a good night.”_

It came out easily enough, but reading it back put her heart into her socks. Could she have _been_ more robotic and long-winded? It wouldn’t do. The second draft was a less wordy read, but still seemed to lack what Makoto truly wished to say:

_“Hi, Ren-kun. Things got a bit…awkward in Boss’ home yesterday. I only asked if I could hold your hand because I hoped it would calm me down. Neither that nor clinging to your leg did much to alleviate that. Clearly, I still have some feelings I need to get over. Please accept my apology for how I acted, and I hope we can continue our relationship as if nothing had happened.”_

Were “feelings” and “relationship” really the words she should use? Her new friend, Eiko, already teased her constantly about Ren being her boyfriend, despite Makoto’s frenzied denials. They were just friends! _No_ need to fuel that fire by saying “relationship” and “feelings” when “friendship” and “fears” could easily be substituted in without losing the meaning. She hadn’t _wanted_ to imply it was more than that (even though that _would_ be nice), but the words had slipped out of her fingers.

Wait…

( _even though that would be nice)_

_What!?_

A groan flew out her lips as she collapsed onto the bed, face-planting onto the black-spotted white comforter. Surely there was no bigger _dork_ in all of Japan than her right at this moment. This was not the time to be inserting her weird, half-formed feelings into a situation that just required a simple apology! She took a moment to take a deep breath before sitting up in her bed, quickly replacing “relationship” and “feelings” with the more appropriate terms. And she _definitely_ ignored the odd pang that arose in her heart when she erased the words.

_“Hi, Ren-kun. Things got a bit…awkward in Boss’ home yesterday. I only asked if I could hold your hand because I hoped it would calm me down. Neither that nor clinging to your leg did much to alleviate that. Clearly, I still have some fears I need to get over. Please accept my apology for how I acted, and I hope we can continue our friendship as if nothing had happened.”_

Okay, this looked serviceable! Concise, not too personable, and conveyed exactly what she wanted to say. Without further delay, Makoto hit ‘send,’ watching as the message’s status rapidly changed from a spinning circle to a checkmark, indicating it had been delivered to Ren’s phone. An unfathomably deep sigh arose from the depths of her gut, and the relief that came with it made Makoto feel as if she had been holding it in all day. She fell onto her bed again, this time laying her head against the pillow as she placed her forearm over her scarlet eyes, wishing that the next time she opened her eyes it would be tomorrow and this whole silly affair would be forgotten. After a minute or so of languishing in the temporary darkness, Makoto removed her arm and glanced at her phone again.

_“Read: 7:02 P.M.”_

That fast!? Makoto felt her heart race, not expecting to see such a quick response. But was that fear pounding in her heart or…excitement? Wait, _why_ would it be excitement!? This wasn’t good! Before she could process this further, something even _more_ frightening appeared:

“ _…”_

The ellipsis. _He was responding!_ Makoto scrambled up into a sitting position, moving so quickly that she conked her skull on the headboard. Hissing in pain, she heard a series of urgent knocks on her closed bedroom door.

“Makoto!? What on Earth was that noise?” It was Sae, her older sister. Makoto’s heart tugged at the worried sound in her sister’s voice, especially since their relationship had gotten icy lately, but she shrugged that off in order to thrust an excuse out so Sae wouldn’t barge in.

“N-nothing Sis!” she moaned through clenched teeth, “I just…dropped my phone…”

Befittingly, Sae’s muffled annoyed grunt was enough to bring down the mood again. “Honestly, you should be more careful. Those aren’t cheap to replace.” The gentle patter of socked feet on hardwood clued her in that Sae had taken her leave. _Sorry Sis,_ Makoto thought. She’d have to mend that bond some other time.

Sighing heavily again she looked back down at her phone, only to see the dots had disappeared. Was he having second thoughts?

_“…”_

As soon as she began to wonder, the ellipsis blinked onto the screen again, gurgling as Ren apparently began reconstructing his message. Did that mean…He was struggling to think of a response?! Makoto couldn’t decide if that was good or bad; maybe he was constructing a thoughtful response like she had, or maybe he was so weirded out he had to replace his harsh response with a softer one? She pulled her knees up to her chest and watched with heavy eyes as the dots flickered and faded, every passing second making her bite her lip harder. They disappeared one last time, before a blip signaled the arrival of a response, Ren’s casual smile lighting up his chat ID picture.

_“It was no big deal.”_

…That was _it!?_ Makoto wanted to smack her head, but it was still a little tender from the bump it had received a moment earlier. The last thirty minutes had, as she had initially suspected, were spent agonizing over a text that was making her seem even _weirder_ than she had acted at Boss’ house. What was wrong with her? Why did everything involving Ren have to be so… _confusing?_

It didn’t _used_ to be. When she was first getting to know him as part of her ham-fisted investigation on the order of Principal Kobayakawa, she thought he was _strange_ more than anything. Despite his “criminal” past, there was easiness about him, an aloofness that betrayed his tough position and poor reputation. Within no time he had made friends with people she’d observed to be frigid loners: Ryuji Sakamoto and Ann Takamaki. Truth be told it made Makoto _angry_ ; she didn’t think her life or the expectations put on her were fair either, but it never manifested much beyond a tongue swollen from how much she bit it and a bitter feeling that sat heavy in her gut. She didn’t have friends, not _real_ ones, and ever adult she knew still treated her like a doormat. What made him so special? It wasn’t _fair_.

But of course, she would soon find out for herself. Even when she figured out his secret life as a Phantom Thief and pushed him into impossible scenarios, he never seemed to crack. The anger swiftly morphed into jealousy, then admiration; when she got reckless and put herself in harm’s way, Ren led the charge to save her, matching her recklessness with his own. It soon became clear they were more similar than they were different despite their polar opposite upbringing. Makoto was never one to deny a good study guide, and after formally joining the Phantom Thieves she made it a goal to try and understand Ren more, if only to try and understand how he didn’t seem to absorb the difficulties of reality in the same way that she had.

What had started as a simple curiosity, however, had blossomed into something far out Makoto’s control. Not only was Ren as calm and cool as he looked, but he had empathy and insight that betrayed his somewhat carefree appearance. More than once Makoto had accidentally found herself confessing thoughts she’d kept imprisoned in the recesses of her mind, only for him to accept them with a smile and help her understand them. The more they talked the more she wanted to know, but now instead of learning about his thought processes she wanted to know what it would feel like to run her hands through the mop of unkempt hair on his head; to abduct his hands from their permanent residence in his pockets and hold them in her own instead, wondering if they were as soft as they looked; to gaze into his eyes, fight through the blood that would gush into her cheeks and simply never look away. Feelings she could _never_ recall having before overwhelmed her now, to the point that just the mere sight of his chat ID made her palms tingle, her skin itch. Her mind, normally exemplary amongst her peers, failed her here, as the right words never seemed to materialize to describe her feelings nor would it let her even _attempt_ to voice them out loud to Ren.

…Until the previous day, of course.

With her mind overwhelmed by fear, the anxiety that normally prevented her from acting on her innermost thoughts lapsed, leading her to do things she would _never_ have done otherwise. Worse, she didn’t even get to enjoy the feeling of holding his hand because she was so scared out of her wits. Given Ren’s response, he didn’t really seem to think much of it either, which made her feel even worse. Her phone’s text curser blinked vapidly in the chat reply box, although the bright LCD screen was starting to get blurry through the tears that pricked her eyes. Of _course_ she was crying now; Makoto hated feeling sorry for herself but she felt it was just like her to get all worked up over a problem of her own creation.

In between wiping them away, she almost didn’t notice her screen change again:

_“…”_

Ren was…replying again? Was this a follow-up? A correction? Maybe a mistake? She watched with bated breath as the punctuation marks did their familiar dance for a bit before blowing her mind:

_“You didn’t need to ask”_

The phone slipped out of her hand like a bar of soap. The tiny sting of the plastic case crashing into her thigh went completely ignored as the room started to spin. Was it possible to spontaneously combust from embarrassment? She didn’t have the answer but felt she was going to find out soon enough. There were a million intellectual takeaways an informed and reasonable mind could take from the text, and Makoto decided to ignore all of them in favor of the take that may not have been the most logical but was causing her heart to run a marathon: _Ren doesn’t mind holding hands._ It was too much, she was going to burst without some relief.

She really _really_ hoped her Buchi-kun doll was a good enough silencer; it was one thing to cover up a head bump from Sae, but Makoto in no way wanted to explain why she was shrieking into her childhood plaything.

**Author's Note:**

> -This is my first shot at P5 fic, and I hope you all enjoyed it! Will do more in the future, hopefully


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